Father Time
by LilyGhost
Summary: Stephanie decides that the only way for certain things to change is to try to initiate it.


**All familiar characters and events are still Janet's. Mistakes are mine alone.**

"I can wait for you here, Babe."

I rolled my head along the headrest on the passenger's seat and smiled over at him.

"It's okay," I told him. "You should just be going back to Rangeman to bask in how much Julie loves you."

"It was a good visit."

Rachel and Ron had allowed Ranger to fly down to Miami, scoop up Julie, and bring her back to Trenton for a week. It's a known fact now that I would also be in Ranger's apartment when Julie's here, and no one seemed to have a problem with that. I guess when you're willing to trade yourself to a total psychopath to get their daughter free, you're considered good people and safe enough for their child to be around.

I reached across the Porsche's console and squeezed Ranger's thigh. "It was an _amazing_ visit. It's weird how much like you she is, but also how quickly she's becoming her own independent person."

"I _would_ be happy that you enjoyed spending time with us, but it brought us to the Burg. Nothing good has come from here except for _you_."

"Thank you for saying that ... and actually _believing it._ I'll be okay," I repeated.

"Will you?" He asked, not looking away from me.

"I hope so. Really ... the worst thing that can happen is I leave here feeling the same way I'm feeling going in ... _disappointed_ and _disconnected_."

"Then don't go in," he said in the tone that's the closest he would ever come to pleading. "We can both go back to Rangeman and do some basking in each other."

I strained my seat belt as I leaned over to kiss him. "Clear your schedule for the rest of the day, because I'm not passing up that offer." He grinned and I felt bad that I was about to make his smile disappear. "Don't be mad, but I'm going to ask for an hour-long postponement, though."

He didn't look happy or mad, just continually understanding. As pathetic as it sounds, I found myself 'studying' the way he and Julie interacted with each other and those of us lucky to be around them this past week. They persevered despite their relationship getting waylaid by multiple deployments, his fear that she'd be hurt as a way to hurt him, and him trying to respect the Martines as her parents when he wanted to be one to her himself. They never gave up on what they wanted in life or from each other, and they now have the kind of daddy/daughter relationship I've secretly always wanted with my own dad.

The Plums don't express emotion, we don't even appear to have them, so we would definitely never, _ever_ , flat-out ask fellow family members if they love us ... until today. My mom took Grandma to get her hair done at the Clip n Curl so I have an hour ... and my dad in my sights. I know too much time and history has passed for us to ever be like Ranger and Julie, but maybe my father and I could get beyond mumbled greetings, car maintenance small talk, and ' _Your mother's in the kitchen_ ' dismissals. It would _never_ occur to him that I'd come over here just to see him, so he's going to get a shock today because that's exactly what I'm doing.

I see this as a possible step towards a better relationship with at least one of my parents, but Ranger views this as just a new way for me to be hurt by someone here. He wasn't thrilled when I asked him to drive me to my parents' house after the lunch we had once I'd picked him up from the private airstrip just outside of Trenton.

"I'll be fine," I promised him.

I'm walking into this with zero expectations, which is how I go into every conversation I have with anyone in the Burg, especially my parents.

"I'm going to make sure you are. I'll wait for you."

"No. You've been stuck on a plane for almost seven hours straight, bringing Julie back home to Miami and immediately returning to me. You need to get some rest so you'll be ready for me and those 'basking plans' you mentioned. I'll get a ride home from Mary Lou in a little while. She wants to know how it felt for me to be 'a Mom' for a week, so I can fill her in on the way back."

The poor guy was torn between wanting to protect me and wanting to support me. "Alright. But _do not_ let him upset you or _I'll_ be paying him a visit next, and the outcome will be very different."

"He'll want to avoid that particular 'meeting', so I promise I'll just stick my toe in the paternal waters here and not let myself get sucked into another Plum riptide."

He still isn't pleased, but he knows I have to do this. I kissed him again and slid out of his car. I stood behind my dad's cab and watched Ranger reluctantly pull away. He won't ever admit to needing it, but he could use at least an hour of sleep.

I let myself into the house and didn't hear the TV on. Since it's usually blasting almost 24/7, if his cab and Buick are in the driveway my dad would have to be out in the garage with only the back door open to it. Even if he took a newspaper into the bathroom with him, he would've left the thing blaring. I used to wonder if the TV was just a convenient - or the _only_ \- way he had to drown out my mother. Since she and Grandma Mazur are currently gone and it isn't on with him sitting three inches away from it, maybe I was right and he does use the television like other people use white noise machines. Or maybe there's just no game on right now.

I found my dad where I thought he'd be. He had the lawnmower on its side up on a workbench and he was in the middle of scraping grass bits from the underside of it. I suppose they do _have_ to be cleaned, but I've never seen someone so concerned about making the underbelly of a grass-chomper spotless. My mom is like that with everything in the kitchen. The domain-lines were drawn early on. The house and everything inside it is hers to run and maintain, and the garage and all its occupants are his territory. Nothing of theirs strays into the other's space, including their kids. Val and I stayed out of the kitchen, garage, and their bedroom, unless we needed something specific or were specifically asked to do something inside their spaces.

If we needed to build a birdhouse for school, we came to the garage and asked for help, if my mom didn't just order my dad to do it during dinner. If we needed a dress for a school dance or had been asked to bring in something food-like for a class party, we spit out the request during the homework/milk and cookie hour we'd have in the kitchen and my mom would take over from there.

Valerie and I grew up in a 'two-parent household' ... no divorce, no tawdry affairs with neighbors or with the wives of supposed friends that led to multiple kids being born out of wedlock and into the rumor mill. We didn't have to learn to cope with parental-addictions beyond baseball games and kitchen-tippling. Val will argue until her last breath that the only abuse happening under this roof was the constant _nagging_ and _nitpicking_ we endured, but my head and emotions to this day tell me otherwise. My trust and faith in our parents had been severely abused, and my feelings have felt nothing except neglected by both.

My sister and I see our childhood through very different lenses, but I've been able to get far enough away from it and can honestly say that nothing has ever felt okay here. I had two parents on paper, but I basically raised myself ... and did a pretty sucky job of it, too. I was emotionally-stunted, viewed myself as unlovable, and had believed the talk that I was a major fuck-up, until Ranger came along and patiently helped me see that _I_ had _never_ been the problem, I was the by-product of two people who wouldn't admit to their being one.

"Hi, Dad," I said, invading his space and likely fucking up his day.

" _Stephanie?_ "

I gave him a small finger wave. "Yeah, it's me."

"Your mother took your grandmother to the beauty parlor."

And there it is, the ' _You are your mother's job, I only agreed to pay for you_ ' brush-off.

"I know. Grandma called me this morning. That's actually why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you."

He looked so uncomfortable at that bit of news, I felt sorry for him. But I didn't turn around and leave because I feel sorry _for me_ more.

"You want to talk to me?" He asked, now looking confused. "What for?"

I wanted to sigh. Though I'm not at all surprised by his reaction. Of course he's uncomfortable being alone with me. It doesn't happen very often. Without a project, an entire obnoxious family, or meal, between us ... it's probably never happened before.

"I just spent the week with Julie. _Ranger's daughter_ ," I explained, when a puzzled crease formed in the middle of his forehead.

"Ah ... that's right. _Julie_. I remember."

Sadly, I know he didn't. That's why I make sure to keep Julie and Ranger away from here. They deserve to be acknowledged and their existence remembered. Despite my promise to my guy to stay calm and not let anyone upset me, I felt myself getting angry.

I tried to tamp it down and stick to my reason for being here. My dad had paused in his mower-care when I first said 'Hi', but he's now going after the treads on the tires with a vengeance. He isn't just cleaning the thing, he's suddenly desperate for a distraction from my presence and frantically needed something to do with his hands.

"Anyway," I began, "seeing how Ranger is with his daughter got me thinking."

" _About?_ "

"Why we don't have the same kind of relationship, or anything remotely similar to theirs."

"What do you mean?" He asked, turning his back to me as he actively looked for a screwdriver ... probably to loosen the screws I'm putting to him.

"Ranger and Julie talk every night. They personally handpick each other's gifts. They go out to dinner together ..."

"We have dinner together," he said in self-defense.

"Only here ... and only with a houseful of people creating a zoo between, beside, and behind, us. If I asked you to join me for dinner at someplace like Rossini's which I know you like, just the two of us - no Mom or Ranger - would you come?"

The chunk of my heart that was still being manned by little Stephanie who'd always wanted to be a 'daddy's girl' felt punctured, and my stomach sank at how long it took him to answer and for how trapped he looked at just the thought of it.

"You wouldn't come, would you?" I asked.

"Your mother ... "

"This doesn't have anything to do with Mom, unless you're saying she'd forbid you to go." Which _is_ a real possibility if she thought she was being purposely excluded. "This is about you and me, and about you and Val, and also you and your granddaughters. You never seem to want to spend time with any of us ... like being around us is a household chore you wouldn't bother with if Mom didn't withhold dessert until you at least say hello to us. Don't you ever wonder what we were doing before we came over? Or where we go and what we'll be doing when we leave? Have you ever asked yourself what Val or I are thinking when Mom tells us to stop wasting our lives doing what we want to do so a man will finally want to marry us ..."

"Your sister is married," he interrupted.

"Yeah, she is ... thanks to me, but she waded through and withstood a lot of crap before she and Albert did get married. And most of the pressure and bad-mouthing came from her own mother. Did you ever tell Mom to lay off _a very pregnant at the time_ Val? Did it ever occur to you to tell Mom to lay off us _period_? Have you ever possibly said something along the lines of we _shouldn't have been grounded for_ something someone else did to us, or mentioned how wrong it was to make us feel that our husbands cheating on us was our own faults because we must have done something wrong to deserve it?"

"Your mother is your mother. She has her own way of doing things."

"Yeah, but unless something's changed in the natural or medical world, we're half _your_ _kids_ , too. You had a say in what we did and how we were raised. Even now, you could _still_ have an opinion on our lives if you were interested in forming and sharing one."

" _Stephanie_ ..." he started to say.

I did sigh this time. Out loud and at length. I recognize that particular tone. It's one Dickie, Joe, Connie, and my mother, all use to try to placate or shut up ' _irrational Stephanie_ '.

"Look, Dad, I'm not trying to make you feel bad or guilty. I just had to see if _I'm_ the reason we aren't close or if there's just no interest on your end in getting to know me."

"I do know you, you're my daughter."

"That's what my birth certificate says, but seeing Ranger and Julie together, even how Kloughn has been with the girls, has me realizing that there _is_ actually a huge difference between being someone's _Dad_ and being their _father_. I was hoping for more of a Dad, rather than a paycheck/emergency-only father, but I guess I can't ask for something you don't have it in you to give me."

"I worked for decades to provide you and your sister clothes, food, and a nice home in a good neighborhood. I see you almost every week, and anytime you need a ride or need to borrow Big Blue, you just have to ask. I don't know what more you want from me."

"I know you don't, and that's part of the problem. I wanted to feel like I had at least one parent who saw me as more than just a tool to use or an obligation to keep, but it looks like that's all I am to everyone here. I mean, you're only talking to me right now because no one else is home and you're being forced to, not because you're interested in what I have to say or are at all concerned about why I suddenly feel like throwing up."

"If you're feeling sick, I can call ..."

"Thank you for the offer, but it's not that kind of sick. I appreciate the fact, I really do, that if I were on fire, you'd run for the hose. If Mom told you I was starving, you'd drop off food for me from her. And if I were actually sick, you'd call an ambulance or drive me to the doctors. I talk to people everyday who don't have even that small amount of support, but what about us calling each other just to say ' _Hi. How's your day going?_ ' ... and actually listen to the answer. Or instead of turning the TV up louder when Mom gets on my case for moving in with Ranger, you immediately turn it off and come rescue me."

"You're a grown woman, Stephanie."

"Yeah, I am, but it'd still be nice to have my dad stand up for me. Better late than never," I added under my breath.

"Your mother means well."

"Do you honestly think so? Or deep down, do you believe like I do that the majority of the time, she cares more about appearances than people, even ones she claims to love."

"You shouldn't talk that way about her. She's done - and has given up - a lot for you. She insisted on staying home just to raise you and your sister."

"Maybe I shouldn't say what I feel since that saying ' _The truth hurts_ ' is pretty accurate. I'm sorry I dropped by and interrupted you. It won't happen again."

I didn't even mean that in a snarky way, but we both noticed that he hadn't stopped what he was originally doing the whole time we were talking because he didn't want, or didn't know how, to speak to me.

"You didn't interrupt ..."

"Yeah, I did," I told him. "But I figured out what I needed to. I have to go. Ranger's waiting for me. "

It's sad that my father will always choose my mother's side over ours, when Val and I would normally be the ones left taking care of both of them if Father Time was feeling especially cruel. Which makes this an ironic situation because no one cares about us beyond what we can do for them, yet he'd expect us to help him with our mother if she ever got sick beyond a cold, while she'd be the first one to stick him in a nursing home if his care got in the way of hers and expect us to do the visiting.

I shrugged to myself on my way out of the garage. This apparently is the life they agreed to long before we caused aches to their heads and cramps in their guts. And in a weird and clinical way, it seems to work for the two of them, since neither one has ever brought up divorce or a different way of living as far as I know. This doesn't work for me, though.

My mother is always telling me that I'm not getting any younger. And it turns out that she's actually right. I'm not going to waste my time wishing for what I _can't_ have when I can be appreciating all that I _do_ have thanks to Ranger. I made a mental cut through the map of Trenton I was picturing in my head, and I left Chambersburg blowing in the breeze for a second ... before letting it finally blow away into a back corner of my brain full of things I refuse to think about anymore.

In revisiting my childhood, I realized that I've actually outgrown this place and the mindset of the people here who refuse to evolve. Who knew it was possible, but Stephanie Plum has grown up.

I also just realized my plans have changed. I'm not really in the mood to visit with Mary Lou now. Lenny may not have a lot going on upstairs, but he loves Mare to death and he's one hell of a Daddy to their rugrats. That it _is_ actually possible to have that kind of relationship, yet know that it won't ever happen for you - not because you don't want it to, but because your own father doesn't want to put any effort into caring about you - really fucking sucks.

As I walked back through the house and out the front door, I dug around in my bag for a tissue to quickly wipe my eyes and nose before either could get a good run going. Hopefully Ranger won't be able to tell that I'd been on the verge of crying. I was telling the truth when I said I had no expectations coming here, but it still hurt a little to see that I did have a valid reason to protect myself that way. I brought out my cell along with the crumpled-up tissue I'd spit gum out into earlier today. I need a ride home now and I have a call to Ranger to place.

I was so preoccupied with trying to form a quick pick-up request in my head without getting into what's never going to change here, I didn't notice the black car until I almost walked into the side of the Porsche. Ranger hadn't left after all. I'd bet anything he just circled the block and re-parked after he knew I'd gone inside. My father may not love me, but clearly there is at least one man in my life who does.


End file.
